


Shape of Things to Come

by atlanxic



Series: Synthetique+ [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Morning After, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlanxic/pseuds/atlanxic
Summary: Laurel strolls into the room, still shirtless, but their hair is tied up again.Oleander drops their phone. It clatters on the countertop, loud in the silence that permeates the room.





	Shape of Things to Come

Kynton wakes up to the warmth of sunlight on his chest and a more unfamiliar warmth pressed against his side. For a few minutes, he simply lies on his back and enjoys it. The tendrils of sleep are still clinging to him, and he's pleasantly sore from last night.

Oh, he realizes, eventually. That warmth must be Laurel. He cracks his eyes open to confirm it, wincing against the morning sunlight streaming through curtains that are more decorative than effective. It really is Laurel, their wiry frame curled up, back against Kynton's side. Their hair tickles Kynton's shoulder, and he wonders if he should wake them up.

Wondering if Laurel has plans for the day slowly shifts to thinking about his own plans. Work at 4am, and then- wait. Sunlight? Kynton jolts awake all at once, wide eyed and scrambling over Laurel's shoulder to grab his phone from the bedside table.

He screeches when he sees the time. It's nearly 6:30. They're going to kill him.

Laurel blinks awake and looks up at him, "What's up?"

"I'm so late for work," Kynton exclaims, clambering over Laurel's legs as he gets out of bed. Laurel looks a bit annoyed, but lets it slide. The morning air is cold against his naked body.

"Call out then," Laurel tells him, "You can say you're sick."

"No, I absolutely cannot," Kynton responds, already pulling on new underwear.

"Suit yourself," Laurel shrugs, and swings their legs over the side of the bed as they sit up slowly. Kynton takes a moment to stare, and then shakes himself out of it.

Laurel doesn't miss the way Kynton's eyes catch on them, and crosses their legs, tilting their head slightly. Their hair, which Kynton almost never sees loose, cascades down and curls around their shoulders. "You sure you don't want to stay here?" they ask coyly.

Kynton groans loudly, but doesn't stop getting dressed. When he's fully dressed, he pats down his own pockets, listing their contents as he adds them, "Phone, house keys, store keys, wallet, I'm good."

Laurel pulls on their pants from last night as Kynton throws open the door to their room. Two sets of wide eyes greet them in the kitchen.

"Kynton?" Oleander questions, not believing their eyes, "I thought you were working this morning."

"I am!" Kynton exclaims, half hysteric.

"Oh fuck," Azucar replies around a mouthful of cereal, "Better go fast."

"Trust me, I plan on it," Kynton replies, already opening the door to the hallway.

"Hey, wait," Oleander says, "I'll call you a Lyft."

"Would you?" Kynton asks, shoulders visibly relaxing.

"Yeah, no problem," Oleander replies, grabbing their phone.

Laurel strolls into the room, still shirtless, but their hair is tied up again.

Oleander drops their phone. It clatters on the countertop, loud in the silence that permeates the room.

They pick it up again, cautiously, and turn to Kynton.

"Who's this?" they ask coldly.

Laurel's eyes narrow, just for a moment, and they smile. "I'm Laurel," they introduce themself, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"They're, ah," Kynton struggles to find the correct word, "They're. We met a couple weeks ago."

"I've been enjoying his company for about that long, yes."

"Wait, so," Azucar says slowly, spoonful of cereal still dangling from their hand, "Are you dating?"

Laurel glances at Kynton, who quickly shakes his head. "No!" he exclaims, "It's not like that, we're just-"

"We've become close friends," Laurel decides to interject.

"I'll say," Oleander replies flatly, and then returns to focusing on their phone.

Laurel ignores Oleander's tone. "So I take it the two of you are Oleander and Azucar?" they ask.

"Oh, he talks about us?" Azurcar asks casually, finally putting down their spoon. "Good things, I hope."

"But of course," Laurel replies smoothly. "I get the impression the three of you are quite close."

"We are," Oleander replies. They put their phone down, and they're about to say something when Laurel changes the subject.

"Kynton," they say, "You're running late for work, yes? Let me give you a ride."

"Oh, that would be great actually," Kynton says, relieved to escape the awkward atmosphere in the apartment as much as to get to work a bit faster.

"I already called a Lyft," Oleander says.

"My apologies," Laurel says smoothly, "If they charge you a fee for cancelling it, I will gladly pay you back."

"That's not-" Oleander starts.

"Come on," Kynton says, still standing at the door.

"Yes, I'm coming," Laurel replies, striding quickly to follow.

And just like that, the two of them are out the door.

"Dude," Azucar starts, looking apologetically at Oleander.

"Don't," Oleander says, staring resolutely at their phone but not really seeing it.

"If you wanna talk about it," Azucar offers.

"There's nothing to talk about," Oleander says, quickly and carefully. "He was never mine."

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna know more about these guys, hmu on twitter, same @


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